


It Takes a Village

by EvilMuffins



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Dangan Ronpa: Another Episode, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: F/M, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, not-so accidental child aquisition, past Junko/Tsumiki, post-drae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-07-25 17:28:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7541557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilMuffins/pseuds/EvilMuffins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Absently, she watched as Komaeda flipped a page in the book he had taken down from her shelf while cleaning.<br/>…It was…nice. This was <i>nice</i>, she decided.<br/>The realisation startled her.<br/>---<br/>Komaeda shows up at Tsumiki's door one evening with an injured Monaca in tow. Things go about as well as one might expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For DR Fan Month prompt 'Childhood/Adulthood'

_Knock, knock_

“W-what?” Tsumiki asked upon cracking open the door, only one of her blood-shot eyes visible through the gap, surveying Komaeda’s cheerful expression.

“Special delivery!” Komaeda sing-songed, hefting up the small girl he carried on his back, a task which would have been slightly easier had he still two working hands.

The door slammed shut in his face.

“Tsumiki-san, she’s hurt! Please at least take a look at her.”

There came no response.

“It’s what Enoshima-san would have wanted,” he encouraged, although the name tasted like rotten fruit in his mouth.

The door opened once more, wider this time, allowing the two to pass inside.

“Excuse us,” Komaeda said, kicking off his shoes and walking past Tsumiki into her living room. Despite the near-nonexistent lighting in the room, the dark stains on the couch and carpet were still concerning.

He settled the small girl down on the opposite end of the sofa, fluffing the throw pillow a bit before sliding it under her head.

“It’s a little dark in here, isn’t it?” He asked conversationally, turning toward Tsumiki.

He caught a glimpse of her staring hungrily at his mitten before looking down toward the floor instead.

“It…it’s fine like this,” she muttered.

Komaeda stepped closer to the nurse, causing her to shudder, though she stood her ground.

“If you treat her, I’ll let you see it, the hand. If you can make her well- in body, at least- I’ll let you do what you like with it.”

Tsumiki walked past him, stealing another glance, before making toward the couch. She crouched beside the unconscious girl, placing the back of her hand against her forehead.

“No fever,” she informed Komaeda as she brushed a lock of green hair out of the small girl’s face, an unexpectedly tender gesture, considering what Monaca had been to Tsumiki’s idol.

“She…she’s so young. Why her? Enoshima-san knew me for longer than her…I would have done anything she had asked… I-I was closest to her. _So why not me_!?” Tsumiki hissed, glaring at Komaeda with needles in her eyes, her fingers clenching around Monaca’s hair. The smaller girl frowned in her sleep.

“You’re already a year older than Enoshima-san was, Tsumiki-san,” Komaeda said plainly. “You’re already you, the Super Highschool Level Nurse. Monaca-chan is young. The younger people are, the more they want to become the person they idolise. She would have been able to mold her more easily. That’s all.”

Tsumiki grimaced, looking Monaca up and down as she slipped into her more confident nurse persona, the one that always left Komaeda feeling more than a little impressed. “She hurt her legs, didn’t she?”

Komaeda nodded, expression even, as he though they were talking about a cheap doll that had been crushed. “Some of the rubble from their hideout fell on her.”

“Judging from the bruising alone, I’m fairly sure the left one is broken. She won’t be walking again for quite a while.”

Tsumiki had always instinctively known that Monaca had been faking her paralysis they few times they had crossed paths. She hadn’t been able to fault the girl for it; it was a sound tactic when it came to attention-getting. Tsumiki herself had considered a similar strategy a time or two, late at night after school, when the bruises and burns didn’t hurt quite enough to quell her imagination.

Once finishing her examination, Tsumiki stood. “I’ll do what I can. I’m not a doctor, though… Really, I’m not…”

“I’d appreciate whatever you can do,” Komaeda said.

Tsumiki left the room to gather supplies, leaving Komaeda alone with the dust.

Junko had picked out new homes for her favorite followers- once the original residents had met their demise, of course. She had showed each of them around their new place, all the while playing at a hellish mix of realtor and newly-wed first time home-buyer, her hair pulled back into that single ponytail, clipboard firmly in hand, as she sang the praises of each of the rooms. Out of her maddening parade of personas, Komaeda had always found that that one pushed his particular buttons the most.

Tsumiki’s apartment had probably been very nice at one time, roomy as it was, though now a worrying odor filled the air, dark pink stains splashed here and about, interspersed with odd bits of trash, medical and otherwise, that made him glad of the poor lighting.

Komaeda idly toed at a pair of forceps left on the floor, immediately wishing he didn’t. The room made the inside of his skull itch.

“Tsumiki-san?” He called down the hall, “Would you mind bringing an extra pair of rubber gloves?”

As the nurse tended to Monaca’s legs, splinting and wrapping, Komaeda scurried around the room, tidying up as best he could. He paused, however, when he came to a photo on the book case. Picking it up, he traced the crack in the glass cover with his fingers as he studied the face of the blonde girl in the picture, fingers raised in a peace sign as she kissed Tsumiki’s cheek.

The picture quickly found a new home in the trash bag he totted along.

“…Junko-neesan?” Came a small voice.

Monaca’s brilliant green eyes blinked up the ceiling.

Komaeda set down the trash bag, coming over to crouch beside the girl, as Tsumiki continued wrapping her leg. “Tsumiki-neesan is here instead. Isn’t that great?”

Monaca blinked again, turning her attention to the other girl. “…Oh, you. …You’re the funny one who used to fall down all the time. Hey, how about you do it right now? Monaca thinks it might make her feel better.”

If Monaca remembered her grand machinations failing before being brought to the apartment, she gave no indication. Not it that meant anything, of course. She was a more gifted actress than even Kotoko.

Tsumiki’s nurse persona quickly fizzled. “Oh, erm, well, Komaeda-san is going to take you home now, so it…it was nice meeting you again Monaca-chan.”

Komaeda laughed like a rusty gate. “No, no, Tsumiki-san. I’m afraid that Monaca-chan is going to be staying here tonight.”

Tsumiki made an expression akin to that of a dying fish.

Komaeda continued, “I know that it’s horrible of me to impose like this, but I have no where to take her back to- the kids ransacked my place when they ‘captured’ me. The place she was staying in blew up, and I’m afraid I’ve lost contact with the rest of our former classmates for the time being. I mean, don’t worry about me, I’ll just sleep outside in the alley with the trash where I belong, but thankfully, I knew that I could count on the Super Highschool Level Nurse to not turn down a patient in need!”

He certainly wasn’t wrong. He may be lying about not knowing the whereabouts of the others- after all, he tracked her down easily enough- but he was correct in her finding it very difficult to turn down someone who needed her.

She looked toward the door to her room as she spoke, rather than meeting the expectant eyes of her gathered company. “Monaca-chan can have my room…and Komaeda-san can have the couch… I-I’ll sleep on the floor and you…you can use me as rug if you’d like… I’m…I’m sorry I don’t have more to offer…”

Komaeda held up his hands in protest. “I’ll have to insist that I take the floor.”

After a good ten minutes of back and forth- only interrupted by Monaca laughing at the two of them- two sets of blankets and pillows were spread out upon the living room floor. Komaeda found himself very glad to have thoroughly cleaned area earlier.

As they finished with laying out the bedding, a little yawn sounded from the couch.

“Monaca is getting sleepy…” the girl whined.

“Well, then,” Komaeda said, sliding his arms behind her shoulders and knees, careful of her injury, “allow your humble servant to whisk you off to dreamland.”

The young girl giggled innocently.

Komaeda wasn’t entirely sure why she was still bothering to play the part of the innocent child after she had already revealed her true self before him; perhaps it was a coping mechanism, or perhaps she just wanted to get back on his good side now that she was truly enfeebled. Either way, he found it favorable. If she truly was to become the next Enoshima Junko, having a multitude of personas would benefit her.

Tsumiki followed the two toward her room, trotting after with uncertainty as if she were the guest.

Monaca drifted off quickly after being tucked in, likely still exhausted from her injuries.

“It’s good that she’s so young,” Komaeda mused aloud, as he stood over her. Though his eyes were focused on her face, they seemed not to be studying her, but something else, far away, something that Tsumiki wasn’t able to see.

Tsumiki nodded in agreement. “Y-yes…she’ll be able to heal faster…”

“What I mean is, people don’t take kids seriously. It’s their greatest strength.” He turned to face Tsumiki then, though the look in his eyes still remained.

“Komaeda-san…” Tsumiki’s own eyes widened in a sudden understanding, nearly eliminating the dark circles for a moment. “Have…have you ever met someone who was an adult, yet they were still very tiny, and very cute? I always thought that…l-life must be easier for them, because people would probably underestimate them…With lower expectations, it’s probably easier to impress people… people expect less of someone who looks like a child…”

A small sound came from the bed, as Monaca began to frown in her sleep, if she truly were asleep.

The two adults crept out of the room, though Komaeda continued the discussion once they were out into the hall.

“If you’re talking about yourself, Tsumiki-san, I am very impressed by you. Even after you lost Enoshima-san, you continued her work. Even after Kimura-senpai tried to stop you, you still continued to spread Despair. Because of you, one day, Hope will shine greater than ever before. All I managed to do was get myself held captive by a gang of gradeschoolers… I mean, I’m sure you’d rather be hearing this from someone less disgusting, but…”

“You’re wrong!” Tsumiki began to shout, regardless of the sleeping girl down the hall. “I tried to do what she wanted…I tried so hard to please her! Even…even if she wasn’t here anymore, I wanted to make her happy, but I couldn’t… I locked myself up in here like a pig in a pen! She’s not even here to forgive me!”

By the time she was finished her tirade, her hands were firmly entangled in her long, matted hair.

Komaeda wondered how long it been since she’d washed. Even so, he placed a hand on her shoulder. Although she flinched initially, her wild expression began to fade.

“Tsumiki-san, I know that I can never replace whatever it was that Enoshima-san was to you, but I am here if you need me to help you out with something, or even if you just need a sounding board or a punching bag. I know I’m not good for much, but I’ll do what I can for you while I’m staying here…and I’ll keep Monaca-chan out of your way, if you’d like. I know having her around brings up some stuff for you.”

“Thank you…”

Komaeda had expected further protest- during their schooldays together, their verbal competitions over who was the more useless of the two had at times lasted for upwards of an hour- however Tsumiki made off toward the living room, kneeling down on her side of the blanket nest to begin fluffing up a pillow, seemingly too out of steam for anymore fussing. She likely hadn’t had any normal human interaction for quite sometime, or any that didn’t end in a lethal injection, that is.

“You’re going to sleep like that?” Komaeda asked, referring to the tattered white nurse’s uniform and single black stocking she still wore.

“I-I thought that you were going to sleep in your clothes too…” She pointed out.

“Well,” Komaeda said, slipping his jacket off, and laying it neatly folded on the arm of the couch, “I am, but only because I didn’t want to impose and ask you for anything different. Besides, I’ve been stuck like this ever since those kids got to me, so what more will another night hurt?”

Tsumiki began to eye him up and down from her place on the blankets. She had been too preoccupied by Monaca to truly take him in until now. Her brows began to furrow.

“How long have you had those wounds on your thighs?” Her ‘Nurse-Mode’ made its second round of the night. How someone like this could ever not see herself as impressive, he would never know.

“A few days, give or take.” He shrugged. It wasn’t as if he had more than a few months time left to live anyway.

Tsumiki’s frown deepened. “Why are there bandages over top of your pants? I’m sure you know that’s not how they work… You’re smarter than I am, after all….”

She began sidling up toward from her place on the floor, to get a better look at the horrendously botched patch-up. Even a toddler with 100-yen store play doctor kit had a greater degree of medical skill.

“Well, to be perfectly honest, Tsumiki-san,” he replied, smiling pleasantly, “I didn’t think it was appropriate to take my pants in front of a bunch children.”

“Would you take them off for me?” Tsumiki asked, still kneeling in front of him, hand on his thigh just above the wound.

Komaeda blinked down at her, at a sudden and rare loss for words.

“I-I mean, so I can examine you! I have a gown in the linen closet…” She stood, bustling by him to retrieve it.

So there were some things in the apartment that didn’t have troubling stains, Komaeda thought as Tsumiki handed him the pale blue hospital gown.

“You can, um, leave your underwear on underneath,” she informed him.

He raised a brow before heading for the bathroom. “Did you think I wasn’t going to?”

He felt briefly guilty leaving the soiled bandages in her trashcan, until he remembered the state of the rest of her living quarters. He didn’t even want to entertain whatever may have gone on in her bathtub. The spread of despair was one thing, but there was something to be said for keeping what was supposed to belong on the inside of a person _outside_ of one’s home, preferably somewhere in the entirety of Towa Hospital that Junko had secured just for her.

“It doesn’t seem to be infected yet,” Tsumiki informed him as he joined her on the living room bedding, allowing her to look over the gashes on his legs.

Komaeda hissed as she swabbed the area on his right leg with alcohol. Somehow it stung more than Syo's scissors had.

“It’s a nice smell… isn’t it?” Tsumiki asked with a pleased smile, gently waving the bottle of rubbing alcohol under his nose, as if she were working the floor in a high-end perfume store.

He turned his head as far to the side as he could without offending her feelings. The bottle smelled like the last hospital he had been admitted to for his condition, back before the world had ended. “Sure…”

Komaeda watched as the nurse deftly wrapped fresh, white bandages around each of his thighs, first one then the other, round and round, like ribbons on a maypole.

“Thank you, Tsumiki-san.” Komaeda smiled. “I feel better already.”

He began to lift up the covers, preparing to turn into bed, however Tsumiki grabbed onto his left wrist, eyeing the attached hand with the same hungry look as when he had first arrived earlier that evening.

“Y-you promised…” She was practically drooling.

Wordlessly, he acquiesced, pulling off the striped mitten to reveal the apple-red claws that had once belonged to Enoshima Junko. Still kneeling on the floor, he held the hand out for her, a twisted parody of a fairytale prince.

The hand soon found a place within hers, fingers intertwining until morning.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the anon who told me to kill myself on one of my older Komamiki stories a few weeks ago. :P Thanks for finally getting me off my butt to finish this chapter.

Tsumiki had never thought of herself as a heavy sleeper- quite the contrary, in fact. Generally, even the slightest creak woke her, for fear that it was someone come to cut her hair off again as she slept, or rouse her with a firm slap to her face. However on this particular morning, she was gently returned to the land of the living by a familiar voice calling her name.

“-san? Tsumiki-san…?”

“Uwaa!” She bolted upright, hands shielding the top of her head. “I’m sorry!”

Though her eyes were bleary in late morning sun, she could make out the outline of a nest of fluffy hair, crouching down to look at her in equal parts concern and curiosity. “For what? You’ve been asleep all morning! I really don’t think you could have done anything yet.”

“O-oh…” Tentatively, she lowered her hands. Looking up, she saw that he had been up long enough to have changed from the hospital gown into a tee and jeans, different from what he had worn when he had first shown up at her door. She briefly wondered where he had gotten it from, seeing as he had brought nothing with him other than Monaca. Had he been awake long to enough to go for a supply run around town, or he had he poked around the apartment enough to have found something belonging to the previous inhabitant? It was of little matter, however, as Tsumiki suddenly remembered her other over-night guest. “How’s Monaca-chan?”

A wailing from the kitchenette answered for her.

“This! Rice!! Is cooold!”

“Oh.”

“Take your time getting up,” Komaeda suggested as he headed for the kitchen. “Oh, and the laundry should be done by now, if you’d like to change. I’m not really an expert on wearing cosplay shop nurse costumes for days and nights on end, but I thought that maybe you’d want to change into something more comfortable, but it’s up to you.”

After Komaeda had left, Tsumiki found herself absently patting the vacant spot beside her in their shared blanket nest. He must have gotten up quite some time ago, judging by how cold his side of the bedding had gone. Gripping a handful of covers, she flexed her fingers in the cheap flannel. Her digits felt stiff, and somehow she could still feel a phantom sensation of his hand- _her_ hand- in her own, clinging to the nerves under her skin like a glove. She wondered for how long he had let her hold it during the night.

Her joints cracked as she stretched her arms over her head. How long _had_ she slept for, she wondered. This thought was quickly followed up by another, suggesting to herself that perhaps it was finally time to get herself a clock. It wasn’t as if things around Towa had to be paid for anymore, especially not if you carried around a big enough syringe in the off chance of any adult survivors making waves.

While Tsumiki considered going straight to the kitchen in order to see what her visitors were up to or if they needed anything, another shriek of frustration from Monaca quickly changed her mind. Instead, she shuffled off toward her laundry nook with a grimace.

It really had been a nice apartment at one time, she reminded herself upon reacquainting herself with the small washer and dryer set she rarely used. A basket of her things, freshly washed and crisply folded sat on top of the unit. She slid a pair of panties off the top, giving the fabric a tentative sniff. Not as nice as a freshly popped bottle of rubbing alcohol, however laundry soap did have its own merit.

She didn’t even mind, really, that he had washed her underthings as well. In fact, it was quite possibly the nicest thing anyone had ever done to her underwear, much better than stealing it from her locker during gym class, or putting ants in it, or running it up the flagpole, or wadding it up and gagging her mouth with it…

Slowly, she slid her current pair of panties off, stepping into the fresh set instead. Oddly encouraged by the simple normalcy of changing clothes, Tsumiki reached into the basket again, plucking out a pink sundress. She couldn’t remember wearing anything of the color since her admittance to Hope’s Peak. She couldn’t even remember why she had it. A gift from Junko? No, the only gifts her former leader had ever given came in the form of swift kicks to the face. Vaguely, she wondered if Komaeda had found also picked it up wherever he had gotten his own current attire from.

Pulling the nurse uniform off and flinging it into the now emptied hamper, she wriggled into the dress instead.

Right away she felt lighter somehow, as she patted non-existent wrinkles from the skirt.

“Tsumiki-san, good morning,” Komaeda greeted, turning from the stove as she entered the kitchen. “Not that it means much coming from me, but you look nice today.”

The girl stopped short. “I-I do? Are you sure?”

“Mm-hmm,” he hummed a reply, turning back to flip a pancake.

“Ugh! The two of you are going to make Monaca barf! Just because Junko-neesan took pity on you, it doesn’t mean that everyone else will, you know,” Monaca spat from her seat at the table.

“Y-yes, of course…” She was right, Tsumiki thought- Komaeda was only speaking out of obligation as a house guest. There was no possible way that a pig like herself could ever look ‘nice’. Even to say that she was ‘just okay’ while accompanied with a non-committal hand-waggle would likely be pushing it.

She heard a soft ripping noise as one of the dress’s seams popped; she had been clutching at the hem, knuckles white.

Komaeda made a vague gesture in the air with his spatula. “Sit down; eat something.”

Tsumiki perched on the edge of the chair across from Monaca.

“I see…you’re feeling a little better this morning,” she ventured.

However, the girl firmly ignored her in favor of watching Komaeda plate up breakfast.

“Here we go!” he placed a plate of what Tsumiki thought perhaps had been meant to be pancakes in front of Monaca.

The small girl looked incredulously from the plate of blackened objects to Komaeda and back again.

“You said that you didn’t like the rice, so I thought that maybe you’d like something Western-style instead,” Komaeda responded, setting a second plate before Tsumiki, this second batch golden brown and fluffy.

Vaguely Tsumiki recalled the time Komaeda had nearly burnt the school down during home-ec ages ago (he had blamed his luck cycle, however Souda and a few others had always remained unconvinced that it was unintentional). Was the key to getting Komaeda to cook properly in letting him ruin the first batch with his bad luck?

Monaca interrupted her thoughts, “Monaca will never grow up to be big and strong like Junko-neesan if you don’t feed me properly.”

“Well, the funny thing about that,” Komaeda seated himself at the table, as he replied brightly, “is the fact that Enoshima-san is dead. Looking at it that way, you’re already in much better shape than she is!”

Monaca gaped at him, before filling her mouth with the burnt pancake.

“How…how did you sleep last night?” Tsumiki asked Komaeda, hoping to ease the tension that had swept over them.

“Never better!”

“Oh, that’s goo-“

“Until around four AM, when I woke up with you on top of me.”

“Oh…ohhh, um,” That would explain why he had gotten up so early. “Would it be better if I was on the bottom on next time?”

The rest of breakfast passed uneventfully, Komaeda eventually insisting on kitchen clean-up duty after the girls had finished eating.

“T-thank you for the meal,” Tsumiki sputtered as Komaeda took the plate away.

“No problem. I know it wasn’t very good, but at least I can make up for it by cleaning up my mess.” He deposited the dishes in the sink with a clink. “By the way, I was thinking about your stutter.”

“Y-y-you were?” She had been speaking too much, hadn’t she? _Of course he’d begin to find me annoying…_

“Well, I was just thinking about that study they did in the US back in the thirties. You’ve heard of it, right, being into healthcare and all?”

“Well, y-yes… ‘The Monster Study’, wasn’t it? It…it was a case of child experimentation, though, rather than a study…” Immediately, she felt guilty for correcting him. Perhaps she had only remembered the story wrong. She wasn’t a psychiatrist, like Gekkogahara-senpai was…

Tsumiki looked across to Monaca, who sported a frown. Although the young girl was skilled in robotics, among other things, it was understandable that she might not have heard of something that had happened so long ago overseas.

Komaeda continued his explanation, “Then you remember that the outcome suggested that it most likely wasn’t possible to induce permanent stuttering on an otherwise normally speaking child. However, what did happed is that the group of children who were repeatedly lied to, and were finally brainwashed into believing that they had a terrible stutter, became very fearful of interacting with others.”

Tsumiki shifted in her seat.

Monaca, on the other hand, continued to listen with a look of mild interest. Maybe the best way to shut her up was with vaguely intellectual trivia? She was a terrifyingly smart child, after all.

“What I’m saying is,” Komaeda seated himself back at the table now that the dishes were all in the sink to soak, gaze directed a Tsumiki. “That it’s not you’re fault that you are the way you are, so you shouldn’t feel bad about it like you do, that’s all. We’re all the product of many different types of relationships, aren’t we?”

Monaca stifled a yawn, unimpressed with the final outcome of the story. “Monaca’s getting tired of sitting hereeeee. Don’t you have any video games or something?”

Tsumiki froze in her seat. A hive of memories buzzed up in her head at the request…a friend, free time spent playing games as a group, a lie, a push, blood, so much blood…

After all she had seen and done since then, surely that couldn’t be of any importance to her anymore… And yet…

“Come on, up we go.” Komaeda knelt down to give the small girl a piggyback ride. “I don’t think Tsumiki-san likes games very much. Maybe there’s something else she could do with you to make up for it?”

Moments later, Tsumiki found herself perched on the couch beside Monaca, brushing out the girl’s hair (something that the older girl hadn’t done for herself in quite some time).

“I want to look just like Junko-neesan,” Monaca reminded her again.

“I’m not…very good at doing hair,” Tsumiki admitted, as if it would come as a surprise to anyone who had ever laid eyes on her.

Even so, she continued to run the brush through thick green hair, before gathering up half of it, and pulling it into a pigtail. Once she had done the same on the opposite side, she sat back to take in her work.

It was incredibly lop-sided. Not nearly a look that would have made magazine covers, like her mentor’s had.

She sighed, praying the girl wouldn’t ask for a mirror.

…But no, she couldn’t just leave it like that.

As she re-did her efforts, Tsumiki pondered once again on Komaeda’s words in the kitchen. Even though he had said that his recounting of the story had been aimed at her, she suspected that there was something meant for Monaca in there as well. If you told a child the same thing about themselves enough times, they would tend to believe it. Therefore, if they were truly to form her into the next Enoshima Junko, Komaeda’s trademark incessant rhetoric on hope and despair would be crucial to the process. As long as the legacy of Despair could continue, whatever was necessary had to be done.

The day passed by fairly quickly, surprisingly so, compared to how her days spent at the ruined hospital, administering ‘special care’, tended to crawl by. It was always the same, the screaming, the needles, the limp bodies, rise and repeat. This was…new, different, passing the day catering to Monaca’s whims and making small talk with Komaeda as he tidied up or read a book. It reminded her almost of her days spent underneath the school with Junko and Mitarai, only this current arrangement was dissimilar from that one as well, in a way she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Absently, she watched as Komaeda flipped a page in the book he had taken down from her shelf while cleaning.

…It was…nice. This was _nice,_ she decided.

The realisation startled her.

 

_End part two_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that I said on Tumblr that this would be the last chapter, but somehow I had more ideas for this than first expected. Whoops.
> 
> Hey, check me out on Tumblr https://evil-muffins.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanking for sticking around for so long! I hope the ending lives up to the wait!
> 
> Fact- I literally had nightmares about posting this and finding that it was riddled with typos and mistakes after everyone had already read it   
> rip

Judging by the startling weight on his chest , prompting him to fight for wakefulness in the dead of the night, it appeared to Komaeda that his time in this world was about to be  concluded  sooner than initially anticipated. 

That  was , however, until the weight began to mutter in her sleep. 

“N-no…I… No, stop! I don’t…I’m sorry! Please…” Tsumiki murmured into his chest, her breath warm and moist through the thin fabric of the t-shirt  he had found to sleep in. 

He really should have been used to it by now, after three nights - the sleep talking, the tossing and turning, waking up with her on top on of him.  Yet , as someone who had spent the greater part of his life as the soul inhabitant of his  dwelling , sleeping next to  another warm body was still taking him something of an adjustment period. 

On the first night (or morning- time meant little in the current state of things), Komaeda had simply gotten up early, doing chores around the house before taking a supply run around town ; however  during the following nights, he had simply lain still as possible until morning. 

For a moment or two, he had considered sliding out from under her and going to check in on Monaca in the bedroom. However, as he attempted to slip his right arm free, his felt his hand brushing up against the girl’s long hair. Suddenly, a memory came to him of his mother stroking his head after he had had a nightmare, back when he was a small child. Not wishing to wake his companion, Komaeda began to run his fingers through just the ends at first, the choppy bits tickling his fingertips as he tentatively worked his way up higher. 

The rhythmic motion of stroking the top of her head nearly lulled Komaeda into falling back to sleep himself, until he finally realised that Tsumiki had ceased her fitfulness, only to instead replace it with the soft sound of breathing, her face still buried into his chest. 

He couldn’t have been very comfortable to sleep on, he thought, as bony as he was. He probably smelled funny too. Didn’t they say that illness could be smelled on a person?

The top of Tsumiki’s head- tucked under his chin as he continued to stroke her dark hair- smelled like ocean salt water, likely from the cheap shampoo he had found for her. 

The idle musings helped to distract him from the worries that had dogged him since arriving at Tsumiki’s door. He shouldn’t have insisted on staying with her. Things were going well enough for now, but sooner or later, some misfortune was going to befall Tsumiki as a result of his bad luck. Despair, of course, was what they as a group craved above all else, however the nurse would no longer be able to aid in the spread of it if she were incapacitated... or dead.  

This, at least, was a better explanation for his lingering guilt than the strangled feeling that formed in the back of his throat whenever he laid eyes on her. During their school days, he had thought the feeling was only born from the great hope offered by her talent. He had also hoped that it might have gone away after their stay at Hope’s Peak was through, after they had all succumbed to the Despair. _Was_ this just another brand of despair, he wondered suddenly, harboring feelings for one that you most certainly didn’t deserve?

In that case, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to stick around for the time being. 

“Mrmm…”

Komaeda ceased his soothing motions as Tsumiki began to stir once more, her lavender eyes blinking in confusion as she began to sit up, continuing to trap the boy underneath her, perching on his thighs while the blanket slid aside, revealing the frilled cami and underpants she had been sleeping in the past couple of nights. “I-I did it again, didn’t I? Oh no…”

Komaeda smiled up at her from where he lay flat against the pillow. “Its fine, Tsumiki-san. It’s important that you get your rest after all, so that you can continue to look after Monaca-chan.”

Tsumiki visibly relaxed upon being reassured. However, Komaeda continued, “I mean, it’s not as if you’re out at the hospital spreading Despair anymore, is it?”

Her eyes grew wide as she scuttled backward, finally freeing him. 

It took a long moment, time enough that Komaeda began to assume that she intended to stay silent on the matter, however, a shaky retort eventually issued forth, her voice a horrible sing-song, as if mocking a child on the playground, her stutter momentarily lost, “I’m not spreading Despair? …Komaeda-san, you’re not either, you know? And why is that? It’s because you’ve never found anyone to love, isn’t it? You may have done… _that_ to your hand, her hand, but it was a waste, because you never found love with her, or anyone else.”

With that, she stood, strolling toward the bathroom with a surefootedness Komaeda had rarely seen in her before. 

Although the weight had now been lifted from his chest, he continued to lie where he had awoke. The comforter he had been using as a mattress had shifted sometime during the night, leaving his spine pressed against the hard flooring. 

He basked in the dull ache.

* * *

 

“Where’s the _other one_?” Monaca asked upon not having seen Tsumiki since the previous evening. Instead, only Komaeda had come in the check on her that morning. 

“She’s still in the bathroom,” the boy replied mildly, settling down into the chair that had been set up at Monaca’s bedside. 

The girl wrinkled up her petite nose. “Eww.”

It had been over an hour since Tsumiki had shut herself up in there, not a sound of running water to be heard the entire time.

“Why do you suppose Enoshima-san adored Despair so much?” Komaeda asked conversationally, scooting the chair closer.

“Are you making breakfast again, or do you she think might actually come out of there soon?” Monaca sighed up at the array of cobwebs on the ceiling.  

“Considering my luck, probably not! So you might as well put breakfast off as long as possible by chatting with me.” 

Monaca rolled her eyes, the perfect picture of an average eleven year old about to receive the classic ‘don’t do drugs’ lecture from her father. “It’s because she was bored. She hated everything being so predictable for her.” 

“That’s right.” Although he his hatred for Despair remained no matter how deep into it he sank, Komaeda still thought that he could understand where Junko had been coming from, at least when it came to the certainty of outcomes. The specifics may have been unpredictable enough, however the one ubiquitous factor in Komaeda’s life was the fact that any good luck would be followed by bad, and bad for good. It was repet it ive, and in a way boring as well; certainly a life in which one could involve themselves with others without bringing about untimely demise must be more fulfilling than what he had led up until now. 

H e continued, “That’s a large part of why you want to continue her legacy, isn’t it? To create a Despair greater and greater, one that would be impossible for any Hope to overcome-“

“Isn’t that boring too, though? If you know for sure that Hope can’t overcome it, then Despair becomes predictable too after a while, doesn’t it?” the girl rolled over to face the wall. “Monaca had a lot of time to think while the two of you disgusting adults were doing dirty things together in that little love nest you made on the floor. You know how sometimes when one black hole meets another, the force is too great for them both to exist in the same space? One always cannibalizes the other- Isn’t that what you told me yesterday, when you were going on and on?”

_ Ah, more bad luck.  _

Komaeda felt his mouth opening up to speak, but whatever words meant to issue forth, he had no idea and never would, as Tsumiki then entered the room. “I-is Monaca-chan feeling any better today?” 

She seemed back to her usual self…or at least what counted as such during these abnormal days. 

“Monaca still can’t move them,” the girl sat back up in bed, “but the good news is that Monaca doesn’t care! Monaca is going to become a NEET from now on, and NEETs don’t really need to get around, you know? All this Despair versus Hope stuff is for babies. Servant-san here made me realise that.”

“I-I’m sorry that I couldn’t fix your legs faster!” Tsumiki blurted, backing away from the bed, certain that Monaca’s proclamation was her own fault, rather than Komaeda’s. “I-“ 

“Would you excuse us for a moment?” Komaeda stepped out into the hall without waiting for an answer, Tsumiki obediently scurrying behind. 

“D-does Monaca-chan no longer want to be like Enoshima-san?” Tsumiki asked fretfully cautiously as they approached the living. 

Komaeda shook his head, flopping down onto the couch where he raised ‘his’ left hand to study it, having foregone the mitten in the confusion of the morning’s events. “I’m sure it was only my bad luck’s doing; this only means that an even more effective way to spread Despair must be on the horizon! Can you imagine the Hope that would be born from overcoming that?”

“No.”

His arm slowly sank to rest at his side as Komaeda raised his eyes up to look at Tsumiki, who had remained standing over him. 

“I… don’t want to feel Hope. Y-you should know that… Despair is best. Despair is so much better than, than…” her knees began to quiver as her fingers tangled into her hair. “Despair feels so wonderful, so why, when you said that to me before…why did I feel so useless instead?”

“That was anger, disappointment, betrayal of trust” Komaeda stood from the couch. “Not every negative emotion falls under the umbrella of ‘Despair’, so it would seem; we can still feel other emotions too. Isn’t that lucky?”

“I don’t want to…I don’t want to feel these other things anymore. Enoshima-san always said that Despair was all that we needed! S-she’d never forgive me!”

Komaeda took a step nearer. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said those things about you not doing enough. I know that the reason you can’t get out to the hospital anymore is because I brought Monaca here, forcing you to treat her. We’ll be leaving tomorrow morning, so my luck cycle shouldn’t affect you anymore after that.”

Flashing an apologetic smile, he turned to head toward the kitchen, however the feeling of soft bandages pressing into his palm held him back, as Tsumiki grasped onto his hand, lightly, as if expecting him to pull away. 

“…Wait.”

Spinning to face her, any trace of question died on his lips as the girl stood on tiptoe, taking them with her own. H er free hand came to rest upon his shoulder, while his useless left one remained at his side as he flinched, his first instinct to push her away. It wasn’t that he didn’t want this, he knew, as he instead began to lean into her, reciprocating, however his mind swarmed with other thoughts. 

He didn’t deserve this.

This was too much good luck.

Something horrible would surely happen to her. 

She didn’t deserve to be burdened with someone like him, Despair or no.

Why?

_ Why? _

“Please don’t leave,” Tsumiki murmured, drawing back, though only so much that Komaeda could feel her breath ghost over his cheek. “I-“

The two froze, hands still entwined as their eyes darted toward the front door where a loud and urgent knocking had arose. 

Was it another of their classmates, looking for backup? An unfortunate citizen who had chosen the wrong building to seek asylum?

“This is the Future Foundation!” the voice suddenly shouting through the door sounded strangely familiar, as if half remembered from a dream. “Come out with your hands up, and I won’t have them hurt you!” 

Before either of them could respond, however, the door flew open, lock broken by the tall man clad in a long red coat now standing in the door way, knives at the ready in either hand. A s he strode into the room, two women followed behind. 

“I’ll find the kid!” the smaller one in pink shouted, taking off toward the bedroom, as the more imposing woman downed a handful of pills. 

_ Andou-senpai, and Kimura-senpai, from school.  _ Komaeda remembered the trio now, as he tried to position himself in front of Tsumiki, who instead made a lunge for the side table where her medical kit full of various needles lay. 

“No you don’t,” Kimura snarled, ripping off her mask as she flew across the room with inhuman speed, tackling Tsumiki to the very same floor Komaeda himself simultaneously was given an intimate view of. 

It took him a moment to work out that the red stain beside him hadn’t been left  behind by one of Tsumiki’s  ‘ patients ’ , but was instead coming for the wound on his thigh, reopened by the throwing knife now poking out of it. 

“I’ve got her!” Andou came rushing from the bedroom, Monaca slung over her back piggy-back style, showing no signs of resistance, likely finding the raid more exciting than being stuck inside the apartment for days on end. “Sheesh, she’s heavy for a kid. Take her, Yoi-chan.”

The man complied wordlessly taking the little girl into his arms princess style, before opening his moth to receive a macaron for a job well-done.

“Thank goodness you’re here!” Monaca finally spoke up. “These horrible people kidnapped me! They’ve been so cruel to poor little Monaca!”

“Yeah, yeah. Save it,” Andou spat, toeing at Komaeda where he lay on the floor, watching the scene unfold. “Hey you, can you still walk? Then come along quietly before I have Yoi-chan make sure that you can’t.”

Komaeda might have said that the moment in which he and Tsumiki were lead out onto the street to hear the cacophonous sound of a helicopter approaching from above, felt as if he were walking inside of a dream, however the time since they had begun to follow under Enoshima had felt largely the same way. 

* * *

 

_ An unknown amount of time later... _

Miaya wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, as her wheelchair rolled up to the doorway. Would this girl be a good candidate for the Neo World Program? Obviously, she was much younger than the other former students the others had been rounding up, but she could slip in a suggestion that Monaca had skipped quite a few grades, and was a part of the class as well. It wasn’t as if Hinata Hajime had been part of the original class either, so it was definitely an option. 

“Monaca-chan?” the squeaky Usami avatar's voice called out gently from the wheelchair’s monitor. The room was so dark. Was the girl sleeping? “My name Gekkogahara Miaya, and I’ll be your therapist starting today. I hope we’ll get along!”

 

_ “Upupupu…” _

 

 

end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news for you- I took a look at my priorities, and decided to cut back on joining in multi-fandom fic exchanges for the rest of the year. This means that I'll have much more time to devote to my OTP and DR in general <3 I hope you'll stick around <3


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